


We're Teenagers Now

by Horsegirl_PanickedKilljoy



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Coming Out, Cute, First Kiss, Frerard, High School, Kids, M/M, Middle School, but they are very cute and young for like 1/3 of this fic, stupid high school party, way too short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 20:50:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8224411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horsegirl_PanickedKilljoy/pseuds/Horsegirl_PanickedKilljoy
Summary: Written for October 2016 MCR Creations Challenge, prompt: teenagers. Just a drabble about Frank and Gerard meeting as little kids, and their friendship all the way to high school. With an unfortunate lack of Mikeyway.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys. This is just something I wrote in a few hours, it's way too short but I thought it was cute. So enjoy!

_Elementary School_

“Hi, I’m Frank, and I’m eight.” Frank offers his widest smile to the boy whose porch he is currently standing on. The boy looks confused; he has his face scrunched up like he doesn’t know what to make of Frank.

“I’m Gerard,” he finally says. “I’m nine. I have a little brother that’s six, his name is Mikey.”

He stumbles over a board laid out on the porch to move closer to Frank.

“Want to ride bikes?”

Frank nods enthusiastically, head bobbing up and down at an astounding rate.

“Yeah! Mine is just over there, I biked here.”

Gerard raises his eyebrows. “You live in the house next to mine.”

“Yeah! Where’s your bike?”

Gerard grins, Frank’s good nature getting to him. He points toward the garage, gesturing to the open door.

“It’s in there. Wait, let me ask my mom first.”

Frank nods again. “Okay.”  
Gerard is more than a little surprised when Frank follows him, but he shrugs it off and walks back into his house, Frank closely shadowing him.

His mom is sitting on the kitchen stool, reading a book. Gerard runs up to her.

“Mom! Can I ride bikes with Frank?”  
She looks over at the smaller, bouncing boy behind her son.

“This is Frank; I presume?”

Frank smiles wider, much to Gerard’s surprise as he didn’t think it was possible.

“Yeah, I’m Frank! Can I ride bikes with Gerard? Uh, please?”

Gerard’s mom laughs. “Very polite I see. Sure, you boys have fun. Be back before dinner, okay?”  
Gerard promises, and follows Frank back outside, laughing. They race to the garage, Frank winning (Gerard totally let him win), and Gerard grabs his bike. It has cards in the tire spokes. When questioned, he responds, “they look cool when the wheels turn.”

Frank grins, a feature that Gerard is quickly learning to be a near-permanent expression. “Get on your bike, dork!”

“Hey! That’s not a nice name.” Gerard’s protests are disregarded as Frank runs to get his own bike. He returns, with a red bicycle complete with a woven basket attached to the handlebars.

“That’s a cool basket,” Gerard comments, much to Frank’s enjoyment.

“Thanks! Where do you want to go?”

Gerard thinks, contemplating nearby options.

“We could go to the park.” He suggests, thinking of how much fun the newly built playground is.

“Sure. Let’s go, I bet I can get there faster.”

Gerard laughs, and places his feet on his pedals. “You wish,” he says, before pushing his bike into motion. Frank follows, soon taking the lead. Gerard should have known not to bet against someone with so much energy.

Their race is half-hearted, soon falling into a shared pace and rapid conversation. Gerard learns that Frank likes Batman and hates math, but loves to play sports.

“I can’t run well,” Gerard informs his new friend, “But I really like to draw, I can show you some of my pictures if you want.”

“Sure,” Frank answers agreeably. “Maybe you could draw on me? I really want tattoos but my mom won’t let me get any.”

“Sure I will.”

At this point, they have reached the park, which is strangely void of people. Gerard drops his bike, letting it rest on the damp grass.

“Let’s go swing!” He insists, taking off at a run before Frank can answer. He hops onto one of the swings, one of the adult ones that he just became big enough for. No more swinging on the _baby_ swing. Frank jumps onto the swing beside him, taking a flying leap from at least five feet away.   
“I’m so glad that we’re old enough to use the adult swings,” Gerard voices. “Mikey still has to swing on the baby swing, ‘cause he’s only six and he might fall off.”

“I stopped swinging on the baby swing when I was four,” Frank confides, feeling like a rebel. Gerard sticks out his tongue, and pushes himself foreword into the expanse of air. Frank mimics him, trying to swing a little higher.

“Don’t go too high, you’ll swing all the way over the bar!” Gerard warns, watching Frank with a worried expression. He’s only just met him; he doesn’t want him to die by lethal swing on the first day of their friendship.

“I’ll be fine,” Frank promises, swinging even higher. The chains on his swing go slack for a moment, and then release at once to become taut again. Carefully, he makes sure to swing lower.

The boys tire of the activity quickly, and it isn’t long until Frank is teaching Gerard to climb up the slide.

“But my mom told me not to do this,” Gerard says nervously, watching Frank scale the distance up the long piece of plastic.

“It’s okay,” Frank promises, “It’s not bad or anything. Only if someone is coming down it.”

“Okay,” Gerard agrees doubtfully, and carefully gains traction on the slippery surface so that he can climb. It’s fun, he discovers, so very different than using the slide for its intended purpose. Frank cheers him on all the way up, and then once Gerard has stood up again, Frank pushed himself down the slide.

Gerard points to the monkey bars. “I’m really good at the monkey bars,” he says, “I can go across eight of them without losing my grip.”

“Wow,” Frank looks at him in admiration. “I can only go across six. My hands hurt when I try to go farther.”

Gerard nods sagely. “Let me show you.”

They run over to the metal bars, and Gerard jumps up to grasp the first ring. Frank watches in awe as he scales nine, before dropping onto his knees on the ground.

“Wow! I beat my record,” Gerard’s eyes sparkle in accomplishment, and then gestures to Frank.

“You try. I bet you can get seven.”

Frank jumps up to catch the first one, and then carefully moves from one ring to the next until he gets to the sixth one.

“I can’t hold on anymore,” he complains, and is about to let go of them when Gerard appears under him.

“Stand on my shoulders. I’ll help you.”

Frank agreeably places his feet on Gerard’s shoulders, finding it considerably easier to go from bar to bar with Gerard walking under him. He smiles in victory with he reaches the last one, the twelfth ring.

He jumps off of Gerard’s shoulders happily, his radiant smile firmly back in place.

“That was awesome! Thanks, Gerard.”

They play for a few more minutes, before Frank points out that he can see the sun setting. Gerard looks at the glowing light in alarm.

“My mom will be mad if I don’t get home soon.”

Frank agrees, and they search for their bikes in the tall grass. As soon as they find them, they urgently begin their journey home.

“I had a good time, Gerard,” Frank says, standing on Gerard’s porch yet again.

“Can I come over again tomorrow? My mom works all of the time and I get lonely.”

“Of course!” Gerard grins, reaching forward to hug Frank. “You can come over anytime.”

“Thank you. Bye!” Gerard waves at Frank’s receding back, releasing a small chuckle when Frank nearly falls of off his bike in his hurry to get home.

 

_Middle School_

“I have a test in Math _and_ in Science! Tomorrow!”

Gerard chuckles, his best friend has certainly not lost his distaste for math in the three years that he has known him.

“Dude, seventh grade sucks. How come middle school always seems so nice until you’re in it?”  
Gerard shrugs, popping out his remaining earbud.

“Dude, I have a History test on Friday. I’m gonna bomb it, I know I am.”

Frank looks up from his papers that are scattered across Gerard’s bed. “I’m good at history. I can help you study, if you want?”

“Yes, please.” He groans, letting his face fall into the pillow that he is resting his elbows on. “Mr. Kingston is out to get me, I swear. I don’t even think he reads my papers anymore, he just sees my name and gives me an ‘F’.”

Frank laughs and pokes Gerard’s forehead.

“There’s no way Mr. Kingston hates you more than Mrs. Smith hates me. I swear, she has the most generic name on the planet and still has the nerve to tell me I need to “broaden my use of language skills.””

Gerard looks up, a grin on his face. Frank’s good mood is infectious, and he finds himself laughing right along with him.

Frank glances at his watch, his favorite gift from the Christmas before.

“Ugh, sorry I gotta go. It’s ten and my bedtime’s eleven.”

“Bedtimes are stupid,” Gerard agrees, getting up to walk him to the door. Gerard’s mother waves goodbye to Frank, and Gerard hugs him before letting him go back to his own house. He hates it, wishes that he could hang out with the other boy all of the time.

Oh well, he’ll see him in school tomorrow.

 

“I have a boyfriend!” Lindsey exclaims excitedly to their lunch table the next day. Gerard smiles, he’s happy for her.

“That’s great, Lyn-Z! Who is it?”

“Yeah, who’s the lucky guy?” Jamia prods, although Gerard suspects that she already knows seeing as she _is_ Lindsey’s best friend.

“It’s Brendon,” She says happily, twirling a supposed friendship bracelet around her wrist.

“He gave me this bracelet, and we held hands all the way to English.” Her eyes get a dreamy look, thinking about him. Gerard glances at Frank, and to his surprise, he looks a little sick.

“Uh, I have to go to the bathroom,” he says, and once he is out of sight, Gerard follows him.

Frank is standing outside the bathroom doors, face red and expression unreadable. Gerard goes up to him, concerned.

“Are you okay?”  
Frank nods, as if he doesn’t trust himself to speak.

“Hey, Frank, come to my house after school so we can talk. Because you don’t look okay.”

Frank shrugs, but Gerard takes that as confirmation and stands with him until Frank is ready to return to their table.

 

They are sitting in Gerard’s basement, him drawing a detailed zombie and Frank having a staring contest with the wall. He looks uncomfortable, but Gerard does not pry, because he knows that if he doesn’t Frank will talk sooner.

“I…I need to tell you something,” Frank finally admits, turning to face his best friend. Gerard nods, and abandons his drawing in favor of talking to Frank.

“What’s up?”  
“Don’t tell anyone, okay?” Frank looks petrified, so Gerard nods seriously.

“Pinky swear,” he promises, and he and Frank lock pinkies for confirmation.

“Okay,” Frank takes a deep breath, his exhale shaky. “Um, so you know how at lunch we were talking about how Lindsey has a boyfriend?”  
Gerard nods, of course he remembers, but he can’t see how this has to do with anything that could upset Frank. Maybe he likes Lindsey?  
“Okay, um, you know how all of the boys in our school are getting girlfriends?”

“Yeah,” Gerard says, still not seeing the point in this conversation.

Frank swallows harshly. “I don’t want a girlfriend,” he says in a small voice.

“Okay, so what’s the problem? You can always wait and have a girlfriend in high school.” Gerard suggests, not seeing how not wanting a girlfriend is a life changing issue. It’s not like he is actively searching for girls either, they seem repulsed by him and he is okay with that. Except for Lindsey, but she’s his girl best friend.

“No,” Frank shakes his head, already regretting this decision. “I don’t want a girlfriend…I want a boyfriend.”

“Oh,” the syllable slips out of Gerard’s mouth before he can stop it. Frank flinches, staring at his friend with wide eyes.

“Do you hate me now. Oh God, you do hate me. Oh-”

“Frank, of course I don’t hate you.” Gerard cuts him off, he can’t bear to see his friend that scared of his rejection.

“You don’t?”

Gerard shakes his head. “Of course not Frankie, you’re my best friend. Just because you like one thing over another isn’t going to make me hate you.”

“Oh, um, thank you.” Frank surges forward to wrap Gerard in a sincere, bone crushing hug.

“What’s it like to kiss a guy?” Gerard asks curiously, sure that now Frank likes guys he knows every detail of having a boyfriend. Frank shrugs.

“I don’t know. I’ve never kissed anyone.”

“Neither have I,” Gerard admits. “I want to, though. The kids in high school make it seem so fun.”

“Maybe…do you want to kiss me?” Frank asks, catching Gerard completely off guard. “Just to see what it’s like? Just so we can see what all the fuss is about?”

Gerard takes in a breath.

“Um…” He _does_ want to know what kissing is like, and here Frank is, practically offering himself up on a platter.

“Sure.” He decides, scooting closer to Frank on the carpeted floor. He doesn’t know what to do, or how to begin, but Frank looks pretty confident so he lets him initiate the kiss.

“Okay,” Frank whispers, his voice significantly less shaky than before, “Just…kiss me.”

“Very informative,” Gerard says, holding in his laughter. Frank chuckles, and then time slows.

Frank moves closer to Gerard, his eyes slipping closed as he pressing his warm, damp lips to Gerard’s own. It’s sloppy, and their teeth clack uncomfortably together, but they do manage to keep their lips pressed together for a few moments before Frank pulls away.

“Huh,” he says, looking at Gerard oddly. “I don’t know what they’re talking about, maybe we did it wrong?”  
Gerard begs to differ. Because all he can see are explosions behind his eyelids and the wonderful taste of Frank on his lips.

 

_High School_

Gerard eyes the group of teenagers.

“They’re terrifying,”

Frank stares at him. “Gerard. You’re a teenager.”

Gerard turns to him, eyes wide. “Yeah! But those over there still make me want to… I don’t know, run away? Is that an option?”

Frank rolls his eyes and grabs Gerard’s hand. “C’mon, you pussy.”

Gerard reluctantly allows himself to be drug past the group of teenagers, that, okay, how does Frank know that they are _not_ dangerous? He keeps his eyes trained resolutely on the ground in front of him, not glancing anywhere _near_ the offending group of humans.

He ignores Frank’s chuckle until they are at _least_ fifty feet past the threat, and then glares at him.

“I’m not a pussy.”

Frank shrugs, fingers still intertwined with Gerard’s own. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Gerard punches him softly in the shoulder. Frank turns, studying him with a close precision.

“You need to learn how to be a teenager. We should go to a party this weekend; I hear that Jamia is having one at her house because her parents are away on vacation.”

Gerard stares at his best friend in shock. “Us? A _party?_ Are you very sure that this is a good idea?”  
Frank rolls his eyes. “Of course. Don’t worry, they won’t kick you out due to awkwardness.”  
Gerard tries to protest, but ends up just finding himself being pulled along by Frank to some unknown location. Said unknown location turns out to be the gym, because, as Gerard conveniently forgot in the panic of seeing a terrifying group of teenagers, they have PE. He really _does_ try not to stare at Frank’s exposed skin while he changes, tries not to think the dirty thoughts that he’s been trying to push away. Because Frank is his best _friend,_ and Gerard is best to get over his little crush as soon as possible.

 

The party is kind of bland in Gerard’s opinion, just a bunch of drunk teenagers drinking to feel rebellious. He and Frank stay to the sidelines, preferring not to become too involved with the general population of drunk idiots.

Until, that is, they are inexplicitly roped into playing a game of “Seven Minutes in Heaven” and they find themselves shoved into a closet, the door locked securely behind them.

Whoever invented this game, Gerard decides, was a fucking genius. Because he finds himself sitting in a dark closet, with _Frank,_ in a setting where he is expected to kiss him. It’s like, all of his dreams come true at the same time.

Frank, however, looks extremely uncomfortable.

“Are you okay with this whole…kissing thing? Because, we don’t have to.”

Gerard tries not to nod too eagerly.

“I’m okay with it. Are you?”

Frank nods slowly. “We are doing this so you get the teenager experience. And I’m pretty sure that includes actually playing drinking games correctly.”

“True.”

This time, Gerard takes the lead, pressing their lips together without nearly as much nervous breathing as when they were twelve and in Gerard’s basement. And this time, he allows himself to sink into the kiss, lets his tongue slip into Frank’s mouth, hoping that he won’t react badly. He doesn’t, and they relax into a lazy rhythm of kissing until they are forced to break apart for air.

“Why didn’t we do this sooner? Properly, I mean? Shit, we could have been doing this all along.”

“That good?” Gerard asks with a laugh, inwardly ecstatic that Frank even might want to do this _again._

“Remember when we were in seventh grade, and you avoided me for a week after we kissed?”  
Franks husky breath is warm against Gerard’s cheek, and he forces himself to nod.

“Yeah. Until I finally decided to just pretend that it never happened and bam, we were friends again.”

“Yep.” Frank nips at Gerard’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“I’m so happy we got over that,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss Frank again. The shorter boy grins into the kiss.

“Well,” he says, after ending the kiss, “we said we weren’t going to have relationships until high school, remember? Until were we “real teenagers?”

Gerard nods. “I don’t see how that has to do with anything.”

Frank smirks, leaning close to Gerard’s neck.

“We’re teenagers now.”                         


End file.
